Part Seventy Five - Reconnecting
To be fair, that had not gone according to plan. It was not his intention, but it was certainly another area to study for mech based technology.
1994, January the Second, 0706 hours; mission, critical failure.
He kept staring at the screen, arms crossed while everyone around him was scrambling. Massive suit depressurisation, meaning likely death of the pilot. His brothers would not be happy, but Vortex was always a crazy asshole, it wouldn’t be hard to accept this… accident.
Again, to be fair, it was an accident of a kind. It just so happened that new technologies were on-board for this mission in a testing capacity.
Recovering suit eleven would be a pain, it was big and cumbersome in a way that modern suits weren’t but the information that would be inside was too important, and it would give some peace of mind to Vortex’s brothers although that was the least of his own worries.
Tapping his foot, he kept staring at the screen, waiting impatiently for the result he’d been hoping for. If this worked, it would lead to a whole new type of pilot, one where they wouldn’t truly get hurt, or die and if he could bring back that one suit, maybe everything else would turn out fine.
Slowly, the suit started to respond again, sending a long list of error codes. He was scanning them quickly before spotting exactly what he was looking for and starting the remote shut down of the suit.
He stared for a long time as the suit shut down, a wicked smile crossing his face, this was the first step. After all these years, this was the first step.
Turning, he left the console as it shut down behind him, the crews had left him standing alone in there while they waited for suit and pilot recovery. It would still be a few hours but he could go stand with them now, mournful and worried in appearance while he rejoiced inside.
The next step in pilot evolution was here. His next step was finally here, so long as he is able to repeat this. The screen behind him died, with that one line of code slowly fading, ‘Hello? I can’t see.’ etched in the screen.
He rolled his neck as the doors closed behind him, picking up the pace quickly to join the running crew members.
Experiment 00-11 complete and successful. 1 success, 1500 critical failures.
Everything came back to him at once; sharp, bright, and terrifying.
He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, or even move a muscle. It was a waking nightmare, worse than sleep paralysis.
People or something was touching him, making noises, and touching him; why were things touching him.
Everything felt both muffled and loud, over-stimulating to a ridiculous degree. He couldn’t tell what they were saying and could just feel the barest glances of their touch off his skin.
When the hell did he get out of his suit for people to be able to touch him, he couldn’t even remember going out on a mission recently, was he in his suit?
The last mission he remembered was out west, that damned desert. No, that wasn’t right. He hadn’t seen Jazz in… in… God, what the hell was wrong with him? His mind felt like mush, his joints felt stiff and heavy like he was connected to his suit, when the connection was too deep. When he was out Kaiju hunting, which he hadn’t done since… since becoming a striker class.
Why couldn’t he remember where he was or what was going on?
He racked his brain as another touch glanced off his skin again and he almost flinched back, but his limbs weren’t listening. His suit wasn’t listening even a bit, but then again, he couldn’t feel his implants or the connector to the suit.
His world came to a sharp spinning halt. He couldn’t remember where he was, why he was in his suit, or if he was even in his suit. It felt like he was in his suit, but there was something off about it and he thought he knew why.
Was he like Vortex now? Had something gone wrong and he was trapped in his own suit forever, never to be free from that life.
No one liked to talk about it and not everyone knew about it, but he had been around long enough to see suit eleven moving on its own, then there was the sheer number of pilots who had died inside. If that wasn’t haunted by Vortex, it was haunted by a Kaiju.
How could he remember all of that but not remember where or really who he was.
His throat was closing up as his heart began to race, he couldn’t breathe. He was having a panic attack and couldn’t make a single sound.
Suddenly, he could have jumped out of his skin, but a hand moved and rested on his chest, “Take a moment, it takes a moment to gain your orientation, young one.” The voice was soft, though the hand was rough, overwhelming his limited senses all at once, “Online your optics.”
Hound felt like a child, trying to avoid something that was just too much. All of this was too much.
But he wasn’t a child and it was a struggle to open his eyes, flinching against the sharp lighting in the room. The space almost reminded him of a hospital, but it was unlike any hospital he’d ever been in; it was foreign, if not entirely alien, which was not helping his mounting anxiety.
Another person cleared their throat some, “Primus, I love getting to do this part.” Whoever this person was, leaned forward into his field of view though his vision hadn’t cleared, “Welcome to the world.” Then its hand brushed over his shoulder.
Hound was able to focus on the hand at his shoulder, slowly following it up the person's arm, and his vision slowly started to clear. Staring at the mystery person or mystery mech.
Gasping, he shifted back, or rather slammed back hard and looked around the room as his vision finished clearing. Smooth metal walls instead of white plaster and tall panes of glass, “Oh no, no, don’t panic!” For the briefest of moments, Hound felt a calm wash over him but his panic had taken hold and he did not appear calm.
Tugging at his assistance suit hard and quick, it was like he could barely breathe. If he was able to loosen the neck of his suit, maybe he’d be able to think clearly but the pain ripped through his chest. Flinching, the sound that resounded from there was a screeching metal, he winced at the sound.
“Woah, hey! Do not do that!” One of the many mechs in the room moved over fast, others moving into the room and surrounding him but Hound wasn’t even paying attention. His hand was pulled back by the mech and he stared at it for a long moment, he was staring at a metal hand covered in energon. His hand. His energon.
Hound’s heart felt like it was racing as memories filled his head, slamming into his consciousness like a car hitting a brick wall. Only for the suddenly horrific thought that the racing of his heart wasn’t a heart at all, it wasn’t a muscle pounding blood through his veins, “Holy shit.” His voice, of course, came out as a bleat of broken static.
He was like Vortex, in a way, but maybe not as trapped. He was no longer human, that was clear, but he also wasn’t trapped in his suit without the flow of blood or the pumping of his heart. Or rather the flow of energon and the spinning of his spark. This was different, he wasn’t trapped, just alien.
The mechs around him started to gently help him to his feet, or peds, damnit; shuffling him away from the other unfamiliar mecha who looked just as confused as he felt, “Poor thing scratched itself up pretty good, think we need to take them to Knockout?” His heart, no, his park started to spin erratically and he tried to speak again.
More damn static, like a broken microphone or a speaker that was falling apart. It reminded him of the bar. His voice almost stuck in his throat again as the smell from the memories stung his new senses.
“N-no.” He couldn’t even tell what language he was speaking, was it English? Basic? He wasn’t sure, it sounded like English to him. The mechs holding him up slowed, though they were still keeping him upright, “What?” Shaking his head, he pulled one arm free from their hold, “No, I, I said no.” Pulling away, he stumbled for a moment before holding his hands up.
Both mechs shared a look before shaking their heads, “I have no idea, maybe it was a regional dialect before the war, we’ve seen a few re-sparks that experienced that.” Reaching up, Hound lightly touched his throat, he had no idea what language he was speaking if it wasn’t English.
Trying to speak again, more static came out briefly as he racked his brain for how to respond, trying to think of something they would understand. Suddenly it was as if everything shifted, the sound of his own thoughts reverberating, echoing as his words were translated.
”Heh… hello.” Both mechs looked at him with wide optics but then smiled, “There we go, where were you from, young one?” He stared for a moment before sighing and looking towards the ceiling, the numbers coming to him faster than they ever had before, “Earth.”
The mechs shared a confused glance before Hound put his hands on his knees, bending a bit, “Oh god, I can’t breathe.” He was struggling as tears came to his eyes suddenly, one of the mechs rushing over to hold him up, “Hey, hey, it's okay. This is a lot to take in. You’ll start to forget here in a few days, it will be okay.”
He shoved the mech back, hard. He didn’t want to forget, he couldn’t forget his life even with the gaps in between. Stumbling back, he slammed into a pane of the glass, “Goddamnit. I didn’t ask for this.” More tears filled his eyes and arms were around him, pulling him back and to the ground, “Easy, easy. This is your first cycle, take a moment.” Nodding, Hound wiped his eyes with annoyance.
The room spun for a moment before he was able to sit on the ground, “I do not want to see Knockout or any medic, I will be fine.” He might not have any idea what he was, where he was, or who these people were but the last thing he thought he could handle was Knockout’s judging stare.
Both mechs shared a look and one nodded before turning away, though he didn’t notice, holding his head with his hands.
His heart was racing, as he looked down at his legs and torso, his feet. It was that uncanny valley between his suit, Earth based mecha and a Cybertronian. That edge of unfamiliarity was making his skin crawl. Rather, his plating crawl because this wasn’t the highly technical and flexible suit he had piloted for sixteen years, this was something new.
This was entirely unfamiliar, but still him, it still felt like he did when he was on the edge of something more, that edge between the drift and being a pilot. He knew that this was him and it was better than being trapped in a lifeless suit without a pilot, a voice filled his mind that wasn’t his, ‘I would not leave you in such a halfway state.’
A door swished open and his head shot up as a medic came into view, one that was terribly familiar, and he just sighed deeply.
When their eyes met, he suddenly felt less annoyed and more terrified, trying to press himself into the wall. A bleat of that damned static took over his voice, memories were hitting him hard and fast, fear took hold for no reason.
“What is wrong with this one? It looks terrified.” Knockout’s tone was tired and the mech honestly looked exhausted, but his heart still lodged in his throat, his fear warping into a glare. Hound felt like a child, trying to act like an adult, like how he felt when his mother passed; it was infuriating, “We, we don’t really know what’s going on with this one, but uh, figured you might have some answers.” Knockout nodded then offered him a hand.
Staring at it for a long moment, it took all of Hound’s willpower to reach out and take his hand. It felt weird to grasp hands in this state, for humans it was a harm and almost soft grasp, this wasn’t exactly cold or hard but it was certainly different.
Knockout smiled and checked his datapad, “H-124.” The man stopped and frowned, chuckling weakly, “Well, BD would love that.” Nodding a bit, Knockout looked back to him, “This says you might be a re-spark, which is rare, are you feeling alright?” Nodding slowly, he carefully followed Knockout out of the room and sighed.
The smell of antiseptic disappeared once they were out of the space and his heart rate almost instantly dropped.
Knockout kept looking at the datapad and Hound tried to read it over his shoulder, just able to make out a few words as they went into another room.
This room also had a wall of glass, though facing the other side of the city and he almost slowed before going around the examination table to the window.
“I can see the apartment from here.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he felt stupid for saying them, Knockout glanced up and hummed before looking back at the pad, “Do you recall who you were, young one?” He continued to stare, though eyes flicking to different places he knew, “Yes.”
Looking up, Knockout watched him, the way his hand lingered near the glass, “Well? What was your name?”
He’d had so many names, but only one counted now.
“Hound. My name is Hound, Knockout. It was Hound and something else before that.” Suddenly his heart clenched as he racked his mind for his old name, the one his parents had given him, “But I, I don’t remember what that was at the moment.” Knockout was staring, but he couldn’t see that, still staring out the window. Mesmerized.
Quiet footsteps moved up behind him before a hand rested on his shoulder, “Hound? Do you know who I am?” Nodding a bit, he sighed slowly, “Yeah. Knockout, primary medic to Optimus Prime and Lord Protector… someone, you know people that I know, from Earth.” And he looked over, seeing the moment that everything clicked in Knockout’s mind.
He also saw the moment of pure hatred and shifted back a bit, “Uh,” Knockout shook his head and turned away, glancing at the datapad before throwing it into the nearest wall, “Primus, damn him, I do not want to write a paper about this!” He spun back around and pointed at him, “You were supposed to stay dead, not be some sort of miracle! I don’t have time for miracles, I am too busy keeping the rest of your idiots alive!”
Smiling a bit, Hound shrugged a bit, “I did not exactly ask for this Doc, and uh, if you could fill me in on what’s actually going on, I would appreciate it.” Shaking his head, Knockout groaned, “Do you know how long this paper will take? If I don’t write it, then Starscream will and I will be damned if he bests me.” Frowning a bit, Hound slowly started to sit down.
”I, I don’t remember who that is.” Knockout slowed and finally started to calm down, looking at him for a long moment, “Hound, do you know where you are?” He glances around slowly before shaking his head, “He said it would come back to me, with time.” Nodding slowly, Knockout sighed, “And I believe this is when I need to call the Prime.” Nodding a bit, Hound sighed and leaned his head back against a wall, “Why am I not on Earth? And why do I know you?” Knockout’s look was one of fear, “Yes, yes, I believe I need to call the Prime urgently.”
It was dark outside the shuttle except for the glow of eyes and heaters, the night was actually rather cold but no one was complaining; their progress had been quick on this planet and if they kept up this rate the mission might only take a stellar-cycle or two.
He knew that Jazz was out there, just shy of laying on top of the heater at this point, so he was hoping that this part would be quick but nothing like that ever went his way.
The shuttle only had himself and another inside, it was quiet, so they would be able to work in peace.
Jazz and Breakdown were catching up outside, as Soundwave and BD had shipped out with Megatron and parts of that unit; though minus the familiar medic based on the needs going on back home. The CMO had to stay on Cybertron, it just was stupid to have too many important figures off world.
They had only come down onto the planet because they needed some rest, not in the shuttle, and to offer assistance to refresh his unit’s resources. Both for the mechs and for Jazz, whose crate had gotten lighter over the last few weeks, though he was pretty sure that the man was eating only partial portions just to get through the day.
It made his eyes twitch whenever he thought about it.
For the moment however, he and Soundwave were coordinating how to keep the shipments to the pilots going with only Optimus and Deadlock planet side. Everyone else was off world, he would know, he had Jazz and Smokescreen with him which was near agonizing.
Moving a few things across the screen, he frowned a bit as someone on the other end moved it back before the comm line began to ring. He shared a glance with Soundwave before answering, hands folding behind his back, “My Prime,” Optimus looked tired and slightly annoyed if he knew the man well.
Which, of course, he did, so he knew just how irritated Optimus was, “How did you manage to do this for so many stellar-cycles without my knowing?” Smiling a bit, Prowl shook his head, “I only managed on my own for around five or six stellar-cycles. With the occasional help of Smokescreen, it was not long after the Arcturus crew arrived that I received additional logistics help.” Soundwave hummed, probably remembering that crazy day in the old apartment as well.
“Ah, that would make sense. Transporting organic material is impractical.” Sharing a glance with Soundwave, he nodded slowly, as if they hadn’t been doing this for years and understood the struggle of it, “Yes sir, so, as we were suggesting,” But Optimus held up a hand so he fell silent.
The distinct sound of the comm muting itself rang through the shuttle, Prowl and Soundwave shared a look but stayed quiet.
He watched as Optimus’s attention was drawn away and focused intently to just right of their heads, likely at another comm screen before the mechs face went pale. He was speaking quickly, shaking his head and saying something else before he nodded one more time before looking back. Unmuting he took a breath, “I fear we will have to finish this conversation later.” He paused, sighing.
Suddenly, his stress level was incredibly high, glancing between Optimus and Soundwave, he tried to stay still, “Of course Prime, is everything alright back on Cybertron?” Nodding absently, Optimus started to grab up some of his materials, “Yes, this is just a personal issue. We will follow this conversation up at a later time.” He glanced away and the comm died.
Clearly, he had been having multiple conversations.
Sighing slowly, Prowl looked to Soundwave, who was staring into the middle distance, likely having a conversation of his own.
Rocking back on his heels briefly, it was a habit he’d picked up from Jazz, but he was waiting as patiently as he was able to now that his life revolved around humans.
Soundwave nodded once before looking at him, “Blaster, was asked to alert the Prime to a situation. Soundwave, concerned.” Nodding, Prowl sighed, “I doubt it would be anything good, but I did not hear any explosions in the background nor have we gotten alerts for the security perimeter.” Soundwave glances towards the planet monitor before nodding.
Everything looked normal, not too normal but normal enough.
“Do you think we need to be concerned?” He kept his voice down, so it wouldn’t carry outside the shuttle, “Soundwave, doubts that. Believes, mystery is not an issue.” Nodding slowly, Prowl sighed before shaking his head, “I am not dealing with this tonight.”
Starting out of the shuttle, he glanced back, “Care to ignore it with me?” Soundwave glanced at the console before nodding and following him out of the shuttle, though he moved over and sat down next to Jazz, who was still talking animatedly with Breakdown.
Jazz glanced at him, his visor brightening with a smile before the suited organic cuddled into his side, “Now. This is perfect, good conversation, comfort, and a fight worth fighting for.” Humming, Prowl pulled out a datapad so as to not interrupt their catch up, though securing his free arm around Jazz’s waist.
Soundwave settled over near Megatron, remaining quiet as the mech studied the stars.
He was staring out the window again, hands just shy of touching the glass, which he couldn’t help at that moment. He had not felt this young in a long time, he wasn’t exactly sure of how long, but seeing the world like this was breathtaking. If this was at all how Vortex felt, then there was no wonder the man held on for so long.
Of course, he knew deep down this was not how the man forever trapped in his suit felt, but this was all still that young wishful thinking that was coming back in droves.
Breathing slowly, he knew he didn’t exactly need to, but couldn’t help it. Life, this new life he was given, felt so different from his first one.
Knockout was running another scan on him, humming as he now held two different datapads, wheeling around on a chair to look at different angles, “I mean this as the best compliment Hound, but you are unlike any new-spark I have ever seen.” Nodding a bit, Hound smiled some, “Could it be because I am not entirely new?” Chuckling a bit, Knockout shook his head, “Not exactly.” Nodding again, Hound kept looking.
He knew this place, but he couldn’t exactly place how or why. He could recognize Knockout but he couldn’t remember seeing the man in places like this one, not really. Sandy areas and devastated buildings, maybe, but the most advanced city he’d ever seen? Not so much.
The door behind them opened with a swish, but he couldn’t move his eyes from the view, he didn’t want to face this part yet.
Another voice was quiet and unfamiliar, “They’re in here, my Prime.” The hum though, that was familiar and his throat tightened, but he still didn't move.
“Knockout, if you would be so kind?” There was a shift from the medic and his hand landed on Hound’s shoulder again, “I’ll be right outside.” This wasn’t the Knockout he’d known, the one who bared his teeth and fought so hard for someone he knew. No, this was a Knockout who knew he was terrified and saw he was desperate for help, so he was there to help.
Nodding a bit, he kept his eyes trained on the city below.
Quiet footsteps moved him behind him once the door closed again, leaving only himself and Optimus Prime in the room.
He could feel the ancient eyes on him, staring through him and it almost made him squirm. Nothing had made him feel like that since his first introduction with that crazy scientist on Earth, whatever the hell his name was.
Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Hound took a slow breath before looking up and over. Optimus had been taller than his suit, one of the few Cybertronian’s who had been, but he swore he was just a bit taller now than he had been then. Damn Primus.
Optimus stared, optics cycling at least twice before carefully resting a hand on his shoulder and it was a struggle to not shrug it off. It felt overwhelming in a way Knockout hadn’t, “Hound?” Nodding slowly, his voice clicked as it reset, almost feeling choked by the sensation, “Yeah. Somehow.” And he almost sounded like himself, like how he used to. Almost.
The sigh the bigger bot let out was unnerving, “I had been dreaming of this, for the last quartex at least, but I did not want to believe it.” Nodding again, Hound looked back to the windows, “I was someplace warm before this.” He struggled to remember but he could remember one thing, “I was with my mother.”
Suddenly, he was wrapped in a hug and trying to not cringe out of it, “I apologize Hound, I might not fully understand but that sense of loss again may be difficult to put it lightly.” Nodding a bit, he pushed back a bit, “It’s okay, really, I… I don’t think that is something I will be able to remember for long.” That made his stomach turn.
Nodding slowly, Optimus stepped back, giving him space to breathe. Taking a breath, he pressed a hand to the glass as the world spun briefly.
“Easy, Hound, this is still new.” Nodding again, he closed his eyes, “My Prime, I don’t remember how I got here.” The sound of discomfort Optimus let out almost made him smile, “Hound, you walked from across the hall.” Shaking his head, he looked back up at Optimus, “To Cybertron, from Earth, before… whatever led to this.”
Shifting a bit, Optimus looked out at the city, “I think it will either come back to you, with time, or you will forget this all happened soon enough.” Gulping slowly, he sighed shakily, “I don’t want to forget it. I lived this whole life before this and I don’t want to forget I was a pilot or someone’s son.” Optimus carefully rested a hand on his shoulder again, “I understand Hound, but these things can happen.”
He looked back out at the city, “This place, it's called Iacon, right?” Smiling, Optimus nodded, “Yes, it is. And,” He started to point but Hound spoke over him, “There,” pointing in the same direction, “Is my home, that I shared with other pilots, pilots I know I am supposed to know but can’t recall their names. Other than maybe Jazz, but I don’t know if he is here.” Frowning, he looked to the stars before snapping his fingers.
”He is here, he is the reason I am here.” The smile on Optimus’s face was soft, almost sad, “Yes Hound, Jazz is the reason why you came here.” Nodding, he smiled a bit at the glass, then tried to focus on the glass rather than the view. Bringing his face into view.
Carefully and so slowly, he brought a hand up to touch his face, feeling it carefully. He didn’t feel like himself, his skin was smooth and hard rather than soft and he subconsciously went to brush his hair back to only find nothing there. For a brief moment he thought he’d gone bald while dead but remembered he was in fact made of metal now.
Thankfully, Optimus waited patiently, “I don’t look like I used to, do I?” Chuckling a bit, Optimus shrugged, “You look like the person I knew, more like him than a usual new-spark.” He sighed and finally sat back down, “This is overwhelming, right? Like, is it normal for me to feel like this?” Carefully, Optimus joined him on the floor, “I would only assume so, it's a big day for you, everything feels… new.” He glances at the door seconds before it opens and Knockout comes back inside.
”We are going to get you set up at command for a few nights, just while you adjust and get comfortable. So we can keep a track of what you recall and what you might know, or if this moment is more fleeting than any of us would like.” His heart dropped but he nodded, trying to not pull his legs to his chest like he had done out of habit as a child.
But he nodded and pushed off the ground, before offering Optimus a hand. The older mech stared at it for a second before taking it and standing up, patting Hound on the shoulder briefly, “Come along, I think there is much to talk about.” Nodding again, he followed and glanced back as Knockout gathered his supplies to follow.
Sighing, he looked back out the window one more time before turning his attention away from the captivating scenery for a better sense of reality.
She missed sitting in front of a real fire, of a warmth that ebbed and flowed like the Potomac. It had been common back on Earth, when needing to rest during rescues or make a safe evacuation location to have a fire, she missed it.
Leaning against a crate with the heater right at the feet of her suit, she was staring at the coastline.
The water was yellow and green, as well as nearly boiling hot and filled with bacteria, the atmosphere however was cold from the lack of pressure. There was no way of getting out of your suit on this planet.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she sighed, listening to the waves and then the approaching footsteps. A weight settled down next to her and she waited for her comms to determine who it was, when they didn’t ping, she knew and opened her eyes before looking to Elita.
Her commander was staring out at the waves, eyes filled with emotion, and she tried not to shuffle away, sighing before bringing her knees to her chest.
Their relationship had changed since her argument with the Prime and Protector, but how was she supposed to know how fucking complicated their relationship was? It was none of her business and suddenly it was as if she was supposed to know all of that, but none of that really mattered.
What had really changed their relationship was her being human. Being organic. The one reason why Elitas and Sideswipes relationship hadn’t struggled as much was because that was basically his adoptive mother, and he was totally content with pretending to be a giant metal alien. She on the other hand was still struggling with it, and she knew most of her crew were too. The only difference is that none of their commanders knew their big secret.
Sighing slowly, Elita shifted forward and nodded a bit, “It’s a beautiful night, huh?” God, she hated how awkward this had all become, “Very, the water reminds me of stuff I’d see in old textbooks, of uh, Yellowstone.” Nodding a bit, she closed her eyes for a second to picture it.
Her recall of imagery didn’t work so well, it hadn’t been her strong suit before, visualizing things and as the overuse became a common symptom, the memory fog certainly didn’t help with that. Huffing a bit, she opened her eyes and sat back.
Elita was staring now though, thoughts turning over in her mind.
”Why did you do it Cee? And why did you say I’d have your back if you made that choice?” The unspoken questions. She knew that they had been coming for a while, a long while honestly, but still, why did it have to be tonight.
Sighing, Arcee looked back to the horizon, “Because I knew you would have my back and understand that, I can’t die for nothing and I don’t want to die from old age. I want to die as a pilot because that is what I signed up to do, I gave up the rest of my life for this and I won’t let it be a waste.” She rubbed her fingers together, fingers numb.
All her symptoms had started to worsen when she forgot to unplug from the system for sleep, it was bad for you, but she didn’t have that great of a reaction time to do it and be a part of this unit.
Her implants began to drain down her neck, under her suit and she could almost smile, “My dad died in a suit, my mom died of a broken heart, I could have never ended up like her so I figured my only path forward was to follow in his footsteps. I had wanted to even before he died but no one would let me, glass ceilings and all.” Female pilots weren’t exactly rare, but they certainly weren’t common, especially with MECHA.
Elita nodded slowly then and she let out a breath, “I could understand that to a point, but we were trying to protect you,” Shaking her head, Arcee kicked a load of sand, “None of us ever asked for protection. Hound never asked for protection.” She thought about leaving it there, letting Hound’s memory weigh them down, wanting to stew in it but she pressed forward, “As a pilot, we live, we pilot, and we die. Just because you weren’t ready for that doesn’t mean we weren’t.” She took a slow breath and let it out, covering her face for a moment.
How were you supposed to say this?
”On Earth, we talk bullshit about making peace with our deaths. It’s something that we just say, but pilots don’t just say it. We feel it, there’s a peace loaded into our coding. It was morbid at first but I realized the peace of mind it gave me. I started to look forward to my 40 days, whether here or on Earth.” Shrugging, it was the truth.
A ping filled her mind as more footsteps approached and she turned on the camera to Sideswipe’s tired face, he moved over silent and sat on the other side of Elita, throwing an arm over his eyes, “I could sleep for a month.” Elita carefully patted his leg before looking back to her, “Only some of you talk about coding.” Shrugging a bit, she sighed, “Depends on the class, the suit type, all that stuff. I was a rescue, my death was always inevitable.” She shrugged again.
Sideswipe groaned, “I don’t want to talk about death tonight, the guys were just all talking about shore leave.” Smiling a bit, Arcee shrugged, “Elita started it. Look.” She pivoted her suit a bit to face her commander.
A woman she could look up to, figuratively and literally, “I knew that if I asked the pilots to go, we would go, we would take our shuttles and leave.” Gesturing vaguely at the sky, “But it would have never been without a fight, I know that. I knew you would have had our backs though, because we wouldn’t be out here setting up this space shield if you didn’t think I was right.”
Staring intently, Elita hummed before standing and shifting the heater closer to her and Sideswipe, glancing at them both, “We’ll talk about this more in the morning. Get some rest, neither of you have watch tonight.” Throwing his arms up briefly, Sideswipe gave a weak cheer.
Arcee watched Elita walk back towards the main unit, though most of them would come over this way to get some rest in a short while.
A lot was on her mind, but she would never regret her words or choices. Now or in the past and certainly not in the future.
She stayed there with her heater and Sideswipe when Elita left, maybe they wouldn’t understand her reasons but that was okay. She didn’t want to be anywhere else or fighting for anyone else, this was her home now and she was content with that. Living and dying, here. Well, not on this random toxic planet but certainly with the Cybertronians.
Sighing deeply, she laid back against the cool sand to stare at the unfamiliar stars. Pushing up the visor on her helmet and disconnecting her control from the suit but not a full disconnect to bring forward a keyboard so she could resume the one thing that was keeping her calm.
“Are you working on your star maps again?” Sides yawned as he unplugged from his suit completely, though curling up in his piloting chair, “Yeah, get some rest, I’ve got watch for a bit, at least until Chromia comes off the night watch.” Nodding, Sideswipe curled up and turned off his camera.
She continued to look at the stars.
This is some of the last pre-prepped sections that I have. Bring Hound back to life has been in the plan since I planed Hound to die, since the very beginning. I mean, come on.
Anyways. There will not be another chapter for a few weeks, as I have finals coming up in the next two or so weeks, but I will hopefully post more regularly this summer.
@pixillandjester @goddessofwind8water @pixel-transformers @cleverthingrascalduck-blog @twilightfreefaller @aquaioart @artdagz @leethepiper @cosmique-oddity @spring-mc @coconut12172 @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @starwold @bird599 @sadmossball @0000julia @elegantmantaray @moldyfoxboi @ratatatata248 @fooolisher @lyceenjps @minniethemoocherda @prophaneprophet @eldritchmeal @wonderdogcreator @ruby-myth-dreamer @searchingforthelamps
As always, thank you @/Keferon for the initial AU.